


17 Christmases, 17 Shades Of You

by colorworld



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Adorable Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Christmas, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Fluffy, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Irondad, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Parent Pepper Potts, Parent Tony Stark, Precious Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Sibling Fluff, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark loves his daughter, christmas with the grandparents, fluffy ideas, once - Freeform, swears like
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 01:34:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21919210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colorworld/pseuds/colorworld
Summary: “Pete,” Tony’s voice softens. “If you want to go, you should go.”The teenage boy waits a moment. “What are you doing for Christmas, Mr. Stark?”Or: Christmas, which was unplanned, turns out better than expected for Peter and Tony, both.
Relationships: Pepper Potts/Tony Stark
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32
Collections: Iron Dad Secret Santa 2019





	17 Christmases, 17 Shades Of You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [endagame](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=endagame).



> To my secret santa giftee, I hope you like this! Merry Christmas, happy Hanukkah, whatever you celebrate! I wish you all the joy in the world, as I do to all of you! This fic was kinda short, but i think it's a short, sweet fic! Again, I hope you like it! Happy holidays, dear!

Peter had experienced a lot of Christmases in his life, all ones of different stripes, different feelings, different ways to go to sleep at the end of the day. He was thinking that this time it could be really good. 

He didn’t remember his Christmases from the time he was one until four. When he was five years old, images in his head are filled with gaps, but yet, so vivid and bringing up so much feeling inside him. So much warmth. They had spent it, like a few before and after, at his paternal grandparents’ home in Glenwood Springs, Colorado, a lesser-known place nestled among the western mountains with a hefty price tag, but not quite as bad as living in the largest city in America. They owned a home and May always had rented an apartment, trying her best to balance all the dollars to their proper place, a challenge for any adult, especially one with a child in New York City. Peter had been so happy to make a gingerbread house with his grandma, play games with his grandpa, watch movies by the fireplace, and to open whatever gifts he got big and small. Such innocence was so treasured, something a toddler his age would never understand until he looked back at least a decade later. 

His first Christmas without his own parents, though, was when he was just seven. It was just May, Ben, and Peter in their seven-hundred-fifty-square-foot Queens homes. They bought a fake tree, one of the cheapest they could find, but it never bothered Peter. He wouldn’t realize why the Christmas tree was so different from what they usually bought until he grew some years older. It was alright, though (or at least he convinced himself so). They didn’t bake this year, but they did buy some cookies (not as good as his mother’s touch, the thought of her had made him cry himself to sleep the night before Christmas Eve). When he awoke at the very moment the clock hit eight and more light tried to seep through the blackout curtains, he rushed out of his room and, yes, there was the one exact toy he wanted under the tree, but his parents weren’t there to see him unwrap any of the boxes wrapped in penguin or polar bear-themed wrapping paper. They weren’t there for anything. They were gone. 

The beloved holiday got better and better throughout the years as money stabilized for Ben and May, something Peter took a while to realize was connected to the quality of the holidays. His interests change, he quickly figures out that Santa is not real, and mere months before December, he starts to experience bullying. No matter what he does, or even Ben and May do, at one point, nothing ever changes. Words about his parents and about himself still make him cry, still increase his shyness, increase all bad and decrease all good, something that should never happen but still does. 

The Christmas after Ben died was much harder than most in his memory. May picked up a lot more work shifts and Peter was more alone than ever before, literally and mentally. When May was there, though, she tried her absolute hardest, exerting her physical and mental strength through working late, working hard, and trying to make the holiday the best she could. They still make cookies, they still watched movies, they bought each other sweet gifts, they put on their favorite Christmas music, they still hung neat stockings, but there were still three gaps. Two gaps were less and less harsh, but the other one was like a stab that went through one end of the body and out the other: the pain really fucking hurt. 

Christmases after that changed in some ways. Finances gained stability, they were able to decorate their apartment a little more, Peter had got bitten by a spider that changed everything, and the now-teenage-superhero has met Mr. Stark, one of two men he’s idolized his whole life. He becomes an intern, something Tony Stark has never had. The time Peter has with him is unique beyond anything else, so much that he wakes up and sees he’s been sent two electronic gift cards of two hundred dollars, one for him and one for his aunt. He can still feel how much his eyes bulged. The teenage boy knew that he was wealthy beyond anything that could be imagined, but it didn’t mean he had to get them gift cards with tons of money on them. They were simple Amex gift cards, so they could spend them on anything. Peter saved most of his but indulged in buying himself a new pair of headphones since his last pair broke. It would come in handy for when he lost his backpack, something he’s never really done before, but he’d get used to it. 

Once Thanos comes to destroy the universe and is defeated at the cost of him dying for five years (and his adopted daughter, Thor’s brother plus his best friend dying), Tony and Peter have both changed. The billionaire seems to see Peter so differently. He hugs him so tightly and so closely, like a father and a son, like him and...Ben. Ben, who had loved him like his own. Ben, who loved him because he  _ was  _ his own. Now that Tony had lost him and had a little girl, upon getting him back and looking at the bright and quirky boy rambling to him about the galactic space battle around them, he confirmed what he only realized maybe a few years ago: this boy was like his son. This boy meant everything to him, just like his Morgan. 

The blip made him, technically, twenty-one, but that’s not how the world decided to do things. Earth left off right where it was before or tried its best to. Peter’s concerns were May, the apartment, his friends, and Tony. He was married to Pepper and he had a daughter, an adorable one with such a smart mind. Peter loved to spend time with her, he loved talking to Mrs. Stark (Potts-Stark, technically), and he...Yeah, he did love to spend time with Mr. Stark (who insists endlessly to call him Tony). Did he feel the same way? Most of the time, the boy didn’t know. 

“When I was little,” Peter starts to explain on the sofa of the lake house the Starks had for the time ever since he died. “We went to Glenwood Springs, Colorado, near Aspen. It’s where my grandparents on my dad’s side live. They still live there since neither of them blipped, but it turns out that they bought a brand new house-really nice, I saw the pictures. Not exactly your millionaire’s or billionaire’s thirty-million-dollar compound, but it was nice. It’s, like, a three-thousand-square-foot house.”

Tony nods in his charcoal gray sweatpants and a hoodie. Pepper was planning out groceries, Morgan was God knows where around the house (maybe with Gerald the alpaca), and the two of them sat with Star Trek: The Next Generation paused while it poured rain outside, Pepper’s lavender candle lit on the coffee table. It was December twelfth and what they were doing for Christmas was still unknown. Tony knew that he and his family weren’t doing anything, but he wasn’t so sure about Peter. When he had asked about what Peter and May were doing for Christmas, the boy has blanked out. Fast forward five minutes, Tony finds himself listening to Peter go over the wintry holiday from when he was a younger boy. It sounded so happy, and he could only hope that his own little girl felt that happy about Christmas. He spoiled her rotten, he gave all the humanly possible love a dad could give to his baby, and so did her mom. He was doing it all right...right?

“I haven’t seen them in years. I’ve only talked on the phone or on facetime.”

“Why not go out to see them?” Tony blurts, feeling like it was an obvious solution, but then it hit him: airfare. Not exactly everyone could fly on a private plane, and not usually even first-class or business class. A lot of people could not simply blow a solid thousand dollars on a plane ticket which could be used in better light for their rent or mortgage, their debt, their food. Privileges of money, huh? 

It was, indeed, airfare among other things. “We can’t just say last minute that we’re coming, Mr. Stark. I...What if they don’t like who I’ve become?” Peter twiddles his thumbs nervously as there’s a roar of thunder in the sky. 

“Well it looks like Thor has an opinion,” Tony jokes with a laugh, but he sees that his son-figure is definitely not laughing. “Pete, what do you mean? You’re such a great kid.” Okay, maybe he was biased, but he never understood how people like Flash, who bullied Peter, could not see what he saw in him: such brilliance, such kindness, such joy that should not be tampered with. 

“I just don’t know how they’ll react to me-an intern of Tony Stark who they always saw me idolize when I was little and how would they react if they knew I was Spider-Man and wh-” Peter’s voice raises to five notches higher, fear evident in his rambling. It would be impossible for him to lie back into the comfort of the sofa with how his nerves are acting up. 

He puts a hand on the boy’s knee at an instant. “Hey, hey, hey,” Tony tries. “Peter, they’re your grandparents who sound like they love you very much.”

Peter is exasperated, mind racing faster and faster with no break. “I...Yeah...Maybe…”

“Then go!” Tony throws his hands up and somewhat outward, voicing his thought simply. 

“I wish I could,” Peter frowns, looking forwards. “I mean, like, I love Colorado-”

“Pete, I’ll pay for the airfare.”

His eyes would be baseball-sized, if physically possible, but it wasn’t, so his orbs of brown would have to settle for the size of large marbles. “Nononono-”

“Pete,” Tony’s voice softens. “If you want to go, you should go.”

The teenage boy waits a moment. “What are  _ you  _ doing for Christmas, Mr. Stark?”

* * *

May Parker knocks on the door of the Parker household on a snowy morning and with Tony and his own family behind her, that question is now answered. 

The door opens and there stands a woman, aged with fine lines and wrinkled, but quite a brightness in her light green eyes, shoulder-length gray-nearly-white hair surrounds her face. She bursts into a grin and wraps her arms around May tightly in glee. “It’s been such a long time!” 

“I know, I know,” May indulges in the embrace. Some sons and daughters-in-law were closer to their parents-in-law and some weren’t, but May was on pretty good terms with the Parkers, even long after Richard and Ben’s passings. 

Jeanine Parker welcomes the group of five into the home, calling for her husband and then turning to comfort the excited two dogs who were curious about the new people in their home. The ceilings were high, something Peter was absolutely never used to. The scenery of snow and mountains out the towering windows was stunning to him. Meanwhile, he looks down and he sees the dog, a smile bursts onto his face as he starts petting and loving on the St. Bernard and the Golden Retriever. He has never seen these dogs before in his life, so he spots their collars’ tags on them and sees Stella and Clover. 

By the time Peter is done fawning over the dogs, Tony and his family had introduced themselves to his grandmother and out of the corner of his eye, he sees his grandfather coming into the room just like he remembered him. He has the aged blue eyes, the surprisingly thick hair, the flannel, and somewhat loose jeans. When Tom Parker catches sight of his grandson, the corners of his lips curl and he opens his arms out wide. “Come on, Pete, come give me a hug!”

Peter starts over to his grandfather and before he can really absorb it, he’s being embraced by his frame which is not frail nor bulky. He pats him on the back and it's like when he was younger, again. 

A good moment later while Jeanine still talks with the others in the background, Tom pulls away and he’s smiling (no dentures, no implants). “How have you been? It’s been so long! We missed you, Pete.”

“I know, I know,” Peter nods. These reactions were better than anything he could’ve ever expected. “I’m good. I missed you too, Grandpa,” The boy returns, and he really does mean it. He didn’t just miss the memories, but he did miss them. 

It’s the nineteenth of December, so they plan to stay through the twenty-seventh in Colorado. Morgan has fallen in love with the dogs and insists on walking them every morning with Jeanine who was not her grandmother, but you might just think so if you were a stranger seeing them as a neighbor in the neighborhood. 

In the chilled air that is dropping faint snow on the three of them, Tony walks with the older woman while his daughter skips and hops and gives the dogs kisses and hugs, among other things. She’s as giggly and innocent as could be in her bubblegum pink puffer jacket and matching knit beanie hat with its fuzzy pom pom. He’s silently hoping his baby’s shoes have enough grip on them so she doesn’t slip on any icy or snowy ground. The very last thing he wants (among a long list of others) is a broken bone or his daughter crying because she hurt herself on accident. 

“She’s such a beautiful little girl,” Jeanine compliments, re-adjusting the scarf that’s around her neck on top of her cherry-red down coat. 

“Thank you,” Tony nods. “She really is. A long time ago, I didn’t realize how great kids could be. Pete and Morgan made me realize differently.”

“Yeah, you were once just a playboy fooling around with everyone, weren’t you?” The woman says, but not in a confirming way because she already knew about her grandson’s mentor, but she’s come to be impressed by him. The man was a very different person than portrayed on the television screen as many people were, but this was even more profound. 

Tony doesn’t defend himself. “Yeah,” He simply says. 

“But then you almost died saving the universe from an alien.”

“Yeah.”

“And you brought back my daughter-in-law and grandson from the dead.”

Tony wasn’t one to accept credit, always. “Technically, Bruce Banner did that-”

“Tony, I thought I lost my remaining family. Both sons and then my grandson and the closest thing he had to a mother. After the blip, living in a world with so much of its population taken was apocalyptic. Sometimes, I didn’t know why I was still breathing, and this is after the fact that I’ve dealt with depression before. You didn’t know if anyone was alive or gone, there was so much looting, I was scared to watch any news on TV half the time-well, if the anchors were still alive.” The woman stops in her tracks and pauses before speaking again. “We adapted, but not comfortably. You gave me my grandson back.” Jeanine gestures to the scenery. “And now, we are here.”

Tony nods. Morgan is ooing and gooing over the dogs who aren’t leashed and are merely a few feet ahead of them in their own coats and boots. “I know what depression feels like. My parents died right before Christmas. When…” He pauses, unsure of how to phrase it. “When I lost Peter, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. It was my fault that he couldn’t have those five years of his life. It was all my fault.”

Jeanine looks at him seriously. “It was not your fault. It was the fault of a genocidal eggplant.”

“And you did.”

“A whole five years later, Jeanine,” His voice gains a bit of exasperation and guilt, and you can see ten times the guilt in his eyes. 

“A delay. A horrifically long and hard delay, but a delay,” Jeanine replies. “It was all worth the wait, for me...Thank you.”

Tony smiles weakly. “Your welcome,” He replies quietly. 

They walk for the next five minutes and the snow gets just a little bit heavier, but none of them care, and that includes Morgan. “He’s like your son, isn’t he?”

“Hm?” Tony blinks. 

Jeanine turns her head to her right. “Peter’s like your son. I’ve seen the way you talk about him, the way he talks about you, how you interact. Hell, he looks like your son. You’re the only man who’s ever been there for him since Ben, and he’d be so happy that Peter had someone who loved him as he did.”

“I’m not Ben Parker, Jeanine.”

“No, but you’re a lot like my child. For Peter, you’d die for him. You’d kill for him. You’d burn for him. You defied all humanly possible ideas, nearly losing your arm and your soul to bring back trillions, but to protect your family, to bring back your son. Ben didn’t get to do that, but if it were possible for him, he would’ve tried.”

Tony swallows. “I tried,” He whispers.

“You succeeded,” Jeanine firmly corrects. “What else would’ve led to your little girl being able to live a life here, hm? What else would’ve prevented a restarted universe devoid of life? Gods, aliens, magic, and science that is all beyond us didn’t take us away forever. And you love him like your own biological child.”

“I do,” Tony replies quietly. “Yeah, I do.”

“Richard never liked you for as long as he was...around...But he’d have to now or I’d slap him.”

Tony just laughs. He definitely had a lot of reasons to not like him for the longest time. 

“Mrs. Jeanie, Daddy, could we get hot chocolate?”

  
  


Days passed quickly and it is suddenly Christmas Eve. Suddenly, Peter is young again. Morgan’s making a gingerbread house with her parents, he plays Mario Kart with her some time later. They watch Elf and The Santa Clause together as a seven-person family with hot chocolate and sugar cookies (some iced differently than others, some messy and some neat). The little girl gets to giggle as she makes snow angels and she plays with the dog, a snowman is left in the white yard when she comes back inside because she finds it too cold. There’s laughter, there’s smiling, there’s love, there’s...warmth. When was the last time Peter felt this kind of particular warmth?

Long after Morgan has been tucked in for the night, she decides her bed isn’t for her. At nine-thirty, half an hour after she’s supposed to have been asleep, she crosses the carpet next door and opens Peter’s door. The toddler’s feet pitter and patter across the carpeted guest room where Peter was watching tv, but he pauses it when he sees his younger sister. “Hey, Morg. What’cha doing up?”

“I dunno,” The toddler shrugs. Her face then switches to confusion when she catches a...a  _ sniffle _ ? “Are you crying?” Her voice is alarmed as response to her intuition kicking in. 

“What?” Peter’s voice cracks. “No I’m not! Why would I be-”

Morgan has already hopped onto his bed and swept her thumbs across his under eyes. There’s a shocked and disappointed face, one you never want to see out of a little boy or girl. “Petey, don’t cry! Santa comes tonight and we get our presents tomorrow! We can go make more snowmen or drink more hot chocolate!” She grins with her innocence. 

“Morgie, it’s okay,” He forces a laugh. Yeah, he was crying, but it was not for his little sister to see. His tears are wiped away and he tries to quell his anxiety, the hardest he can, but it’s so hard. Maybe if he keeps looking into the child’s eyes, it’ll go away. “I’m not upset.”

“You had tears coming out of your eyes,” She reminds, thinking that he thought she was dumb for a few seconds. 

“Well, sometimes onions make you cry or you cry of laughter,” Peter tries his best.

“Daddy’s right,” Morgan frowns and shakes her head. “You’re a crappy liar.”

Peter wraps an arm around her. “Ah, not that bad-”

“You are.”

“I-okay. Morgie…,” His voice softens. “I’m just missing my parents and my uncle, right now. It’s okay.” It was actually true. Seeing his grandparents again and that it was Christmas made it easy to remember the pain, despite all the joy he still has. 

“Petey! They’re right here,” Morgan pokes his forehead (and a little harshly). “Here,” She points to the ceiling. “And  _ here _ ,” She lands her finger on his heart. “That’s what mommy says about daddy’s mommy.”

“Oh...Yeah,” Peter weakly smiles. She had a point. “I guess you’re right.”

“I know I am. I’m good at that. But I’m watching tv with you until I am  _ sure _ ,” She stretches out her last word. “That you do not cry again.”

“I’m not gonna cry again, Morgie,” Peter reassures as he grabs the remote. He was actually watching Star Wars: The Clone Wars, of all things. 

“Okay, boomer.” She looks at the tv. “So where’s Ashoka?” 

The very next morning begins by Morgan’s feet pitter-pattering down the wooden stairs and gasping at all the perfectly wrapped presents. She had gotten some toys, some clothes, a lot of miscellaneous items. Peter got new headphones that look like Tony tinkered with them and added his own flare, plus many miscellaneous items. 

The day was better than imagined for Peter. They had a great breakfast, they played in the snow, they played more Mario Kart (including other video games that “Santa” brought). Of course, Morgan played with the dogs a ton. Pepper captured a lot of moments through pictures and videos. Stella had launched into the feet of snow and came out looking so hilarious, for example, a picture had to be taken. 

When it’s time to leave two days later, Peter dumps all of his humanly possible love into the last hugs with his grandparents, for a while. They all agreed they would come for spring break and at least sometime in the summer. Coming was hard, for the boy feared the worst, but leaving was even harder. It was all okay. They knew he was Spider-Man and it was okay. They knew what he’s done and where he’s been and it was okay. When he left, his biological family felt a little bigger.

“Hey, Pete,” Tony starts, smiling at the boy who, yes, was like his son just like Jeanine said. “They love who you’ve become.”

Peter can’t help but smile. “Yeah...Yeah, they do.”


End file.
